poached eggs with arugula and polenta fingers

This is the weirdest thing I’ve made in a long time. I think I saw the recipe in Bon Appetit and caught that I liked each component – arugula salad, poached eggs, polenta – but didn’t stop to consider that those items might not belong on the same plate.

I’m not really that close-minded. Someone obviously enjoyed this, so there must be something good about it. I just needed to focus on that good.

There were moments of doubt. The coconut milk in the polenta is unusual, not to mention fattening, but then tasted surprisingly good. The original recipe recommends frying the polenta fingers on high in extra virgin olive oil, which is silly. I used a mixture of olive oil (not virgin) and canola oil, and it still smoked on medium-high heat. I did find that the heat must be turned up pretty high to brown the polenta.

I doubled the amount of dressing and greatly increased (quadrupled maybe) the amount of arugula. It was all going fine until I was actually putting the egg on the salad, and then I realized that egg on salad actually might not be my thing.

But, never mind, I guess it is my thing, and maybe Dave’s too. The egg was quite a nice topping for the salad, and the polenta fingers were a great accompaniment, especially when they were used to sop up extra vinaigrette. So if poached egg on salad is your thing, or if you’re willing to try something new, this recipe is worth your effort.

Poached Eggs with Arugula and Polenta Fingers (adapted from Bon Appetit May 2008 )

Makes 4 servings

Bridget note: I’ve made the recipe a bit more detailed than it is in the magazine, as well as changing the polenta and poached egg method to those of Cooks Illustrated.

For the polenta:
1 13.5- to 14-ounce can unsweetened coconut milk
water
½ cup polenta or coarse cornmeal
¼ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon canola oil

For the salad:
8 cups arugula
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons olive oil
pinch salt
pinch black pepper

For the poached eggs:
4 eggs, each cracked into a small handled cup
2 tablespoons white vinegar
1 teaspoon salt

1. For the polenta: Pour coconut milk into 2-cup measuring cup and add enough water to make 2 cups liquid. Bring liquid to boil in medium heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to the lowest possible setting, add salt, and pour the cornmeal into the water in a very slow stream from a measuring cup, all the while whisking in a circular motion to prevent lumps.

2. Cover and cook, vigorously stirring the polenta with a wooden spoon for about 10 seconds once every 5 minutes and making sure to scrape clean the bottom and corners of the pot, until the polenta has lost its raw cornmeal taste and becomes soft and smooth, about 30 minutes. Stir in the parmesan and season with salt and pepper to taste.

3. Spray 8-inch square baking pan with nonstick cooking spray. Pour polenta into pan and spread to corners. Press plastic wrap directly on surface of polenta and chill until firm, about 1 hour. (Can be made 1 day ahead and refrigerated.)

4. Turn polenta out onto cutting board. Cut into 4×1-inch rectangles. Heat oils in 12-inch nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Working in two batches, add polenta fingers; cook until golden, about 3 minutes per side.

5. For the salad: While first batch of polenta cooks, whisk oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper in small bowl until combined. In large bowl, toss arugula with dressing and divide among salad plates.

6. For the poached eggs: While last batch of polenta cooks, fill an 8- to 10-inch nonstick skillet nearly to the rim with water, add the salt and vinegar, and bring the mixture to boil over high heat. Lower the lips of each cup just into water at once; tip eggs into boiling water, cover, and remove from heat. Poach until yolks are medium-firm, exactly 4 minutes. For firmer yolks (or for extra large or jumbo eggs), poach 4 ½ minutes; for looser yolks (or for medium eggs), poach 3 minutes.

7. Top each salad with a poached egg. Break yolks with tip of knife. Sprinkle with black pepper. Serve with polenta.

la palette’s strawberry tart

I joined TWD right at the beginning of strawberry season – when the first flavorless strawberries started showing up in stores, and I bought them just because I was excited about warmer weather and everything that goes along with it. I was eager to make one strawberry dessert after another during their short season, but the TWD recipe-choosers haven’t been on that same wavelength. (Of course, not all of TWD’s members are in the Northern Hemisphere anyway.) I still bought strawberries each week, and every week they’re more flavorful than the last. The strawberry tart that Marie chose for this week’s recipe was a perfect way to showcase delicious seasonal strawberries.

I make only a portion of most TWD recipes, since I’m only cooking for myself and Dave, and my capacity to bake outstrips our capacity to eat. But I didn’t want to take pictures of yet another mini-tart. I actually don’t have a fluted 9-inch tart pan, but I’ve successfully used my 9-inch springform pan for tarts in the past.

Dorie calls this dessert “rustic in the extreme”, so I decided to play that up. A rustic tart has no need for fluted, or even neat, edges, so I just quickly pressed the dough into the pan. A number of people had problems with the crust being too hard, so I was careful to only lightly press the dough. It did, however, end up ever so slightly more rustic than I had intended…

Although the recipe sounds extraordinarily simple – crust, jam, strawberries, whipped cream – it really does add up to more than its parts. I was surprised by how much the jam added to the flavor of the tart. My crust seemed more tender than most people described theirs, so maybe lightly pressing it into the pan worked? (Scratch that – I just cut the crust into slices, and it was a crumbly crackly mess.) I haven’t tried sprinkling the strawberries with Dorie’s suggested black pepper, but after reading a few positive reviews on that method, I’m going to try it with tonight’s serving. Although strawberry shortcake isn’t going anywhere as my favorite strawberry-showcasing dessert, I’m looking forward to finishing up this tart throughout the week.

Dorie has discussed this dessert and provided the recipe on Serious Eats. I made the recipe without any changes, but in the future, I’d like another 1/8 teaspoon salt in the crust.

french chocolate brownies (twd)

One of my favorite aspects of Dorie Greenspan’s Baking is that she gives twelve brownie recipes. There’s so much discussion about the best brownie recipe that it seems like sometimes the variety between brownies gets overlooked. Not only are there different add-ins – turtle brownies, espresso brownies, creme de menthe brownies – but there are different textures, and one isn’t necessarily better than another. Di’s TWD choice of French Chocolate Brownies was the first of Dorie’s brownies recipes that I tried.

Dorie tells a story of how these brownies were intended to be a rich chocolate cake, but her guests mistook them for brownies, and she didn’t correct them. I can see the confusion. The ingredient list is classic brownie, but the mixing method and resulting texture bridge the line between brownie and cake. Beating the eggs and sugar together until they’re thick creates a light, airy confection that is at the same time tender and moist and far less dense than most brownies.

Dorie calls for the unusual addition of flambéed raisins to the brownies, which most members of TWD weren’t excited about. I considered leaving that step out altogether, but didn’t want to miss out on the fun of flambéing. One of my favorite dessert combinations is raspberries and chocolate, so I used fresh raspberries. It was perfect. I think I’ll always add the raspberries to this recipe.

My only disappointment with these brownies was that they weren’t as chocolately as I would prefer, but I don’t blame Dorie for that. She says she prefers bittersweet chocolate over semisweet, but of course those words don’t have any official meaning in the US. I usually bake with Ghirardelli, whose bittersweet chocolate is 60% cacao, but this time I used Sharffenberger, whose semisweet is 60%, so I bought the semisweet. I probably should have used their bittersweet. On top of that, I read a Cooks Illustrated’s review of dark chocolates, and their comments for Sharffenberger included “lacked choco-oomph.” So perhaps it wasn’t the best choice of chocolate for this recipe.

But regardless, I’m nitpicking (again). I savored every single bite I took of these brownies, and I was sad when I finished each serving. I love that they’re chocolately and rich, but also unique for a brownie in their cakelike tenderness. And, an added bonus for a middle-brownie lover? There’s really no difference between the edges and middle. Every single serving is moist and light.

French Chocolate Brownies (from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking: From My Home to Yours)

16 brownies

Bridget note: I substituted about ½ cup fresh raspberries, halved, for the raisins. Instead of boiling them in water as in step 2, I gently heated them in a small skillet before adding the rum and continuing with step 2.

Update: I made these again, this time using a Pyrex dish instead of the metal pan I used for the original entry.  I don’t know if things bake faster in glass or what, but I must have overbaked them, because the brownies were too dry.   So check for doneness early!

½ cup all-purpose flour
⅛ teaspoon salt
⅛ teaspoon cinnamon (optional)
⅓ cup raisins, dark or golden
1½ tablespoons water
1½ tablespoons dark rum
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
1½ sticks (12 tablespoons; 6 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperature and cut into 12 pieces
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup sugar

Getting ready: Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 300°F. Line an 8-inch square baking pan with foil, butter the foil, place the pan on a baking sheet, and set aside.

1. Whisk together the flour, salt and cinnamon, if you’re using it.

2. Put the raisins in a small saucepan with the water, bring to a boil over medium heat and cook until the water almost evaporates. Add the rum, let it warm for about 30 seconds, turn off the heat, stand back and ignite the rum. Allow the flames to die down, and set the raisins aside until needed.

3. Put the chocolate in a heatproof bowl and set the bowl over a saucepan of simmering water. Slowly and gently melt the chocolate, stirring occasionally. Remove the bowl from the saucepan and add the butter, stirring so that it melts. It’s important that the chocolate and butter not get very hot. However, if the butter is not melting, you can put the bowl back over the still-hot water for a minute. If you’ve got a couple of little bits of unmelted butter, leave them-it’s better to have a few bits than to overheat the whole. Set the chocolate aside for the moment.

4. Working with a stand mixer with the whisk attachment, or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the eggs and sugar until they are thick and pale, about 2 minutes. Lower the mixer speed and pour in the chocolate-butter, mixing only until it is incorporated-you’ll have a thick, creamy batter. Add the dry ingredients and mix at low speed for about 30 seconds-the dry ingredients won’t be completely incorporated and that’s fine. Finish folding in the dry ingredients by hand with a rubber spatula, then fold in the raisins along with any liquid remaining in the pan.

5. Scrape the batter into the pan and bake 50 to 60 minutes, or until the top is dry and crackled and a knife inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Transfer the pan to a rack and allow the brownies to cool to warm or room temperature.

6. Carefully lift the brownies out of the pan, using the foil edges as handles, and transfer to a cutting board. With a long-bladed knife, cut the brownies into 16 squares, each roughly 2 inches on a side, taking care not to cut through the foil.

Serving: The brownies are good just warm or at room temperature; they’re even fine cold. I like these with a little something on top or alongside-good go-alongs are whipped crème fraiche or whipped cream, ice cream or chocolate sauce or even all three!

Storing: Wrapped well, these can be kept at room temperature for up to 3 days or frozen for up to 2 months.

I’m out of town this week, building sand castles and burying nephews in the sand. I’ll be back next week to catch up on comments and other blogs!

orange vanilla opera cake (db may 2008)

Lately I’ve become fixated with Bo Friberg’s The Professional Pastry Chef. I don’t want and have never wanted to be a professional pastry chef. But I flipped through this book and I was hooked. (Actually, in my arrogance, I grabbed The Advanced Pastry Chef first.) Page after page of beautifully plated desserts; this was more than food, this was art. Suddenly the fuss necessary to produce eye-catching desserts seemed worthwhile.

So I was elated when Ivonne, Lis, Fran, and Shea announced their choice of an opera cake for this month’s Daring Baker challenge. Layers of almond-based cake brushed with syrup, interspersed with buttercream, topped with mousse and glaze – this is exactly what I had in mind to try. I haven’t bought The Professional Pastry Chef yet, but at least I have a reason to get some practice.

The rules for the recipe were somewhat flexible in that we could flavor our cake any way we wanted – as long as it was light-colored. I would have enjoyed trying a traditional dark chocolate opera cake, but this was fun too. I’ve been loving creamsicle-like flavors lately, so I made my pastry orange and vanilla-flavored.

I hit a snag or two along the road, but nothing that couldn’t be overcome. A shortage of parchment paper meant I couldn’t adequately line my pan and the cake didn’t come out cleanly, but I was able to piece it together better than I expected. My first batch of white chocolate seized when I tried melting it, even though I used high-quality (Callebaut) chocolate and a double boiler. My orange glaze, which I adapted from a recipe Tyler Florence developed to top scones, wasn’t stable at room temperature, even though I added more powdered sugar than I’d expected to need.

No matter, everything came together in the end. The cake was good, although not as flavorful as I would have liked. I was warned before I made mine that it might be too sweet, so I added a pinch of salt to the jaconde to add some balance. I was also hoping that the orange would help balance the sweetness, but there wasn’t nearly enough orange or vanilla flavor. I didn’t end up using the zest of the orange anywhere, which certainly would have helped. And I’ve never been able to get a strong vanilla flavor in something baked. Maybe I should try rubbing the vanilla seeds into the sugar, like Dorie recommends with citrus zest?

Even if the flavor didn’t knock my socks off, I’m really glad I made this. I learned so much and used so many techniques that were new to me. I also think it’s great that we were given the freedom to develop our own flavors, which encouraged me to be creative. I’m eager to try the traditional dark chocolate version now, and this time I’ll make sure it’s rich and flavorful!

Orange-Vanilla Opera Cake

This is exactly the recipe I used, including my adaptations for orange and vanilla flavors. This recipe is half of what was given to us by the Daring Baker hosts this month. Double this amount of buttercream would probably provide the right amount to create layers of equal thickness to the cake; mine are a little thin.

Joconde: (adapted from Dorie Greenspan’s Paris Sweets)

The joconde can be made up to 1 day in advance and kept wrapped at room temperate

You can buy almond meal in bulk food stores or health food stores, or you can make it at home by grinding almonds in the food processor with two tablespoons of the flour that you would use in the cake.

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled
3 large egg whites, at room temperature
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 cup (112 grams) ground blanched almonds
1 cup (3.5 ounces) icing sugar, sifted
3 large eggs
1 vanilla bean, split and scraped
½ teaspoon vanilla
Pinch salt
¼ cup (1.25 ounces) all-purpose flour

1. Adjust an oven rack to the middle position. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Line a 12½ x 15½-inch jelly-roll pan with parchment paper and brush with ½ tablespoon of the melted butter.

2. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment (or using a handheld mixer), whip the whites on low speed until they become foamy, then whip on medium-high speed until the whites reach soft peaks. Add the granulated sugar, and whip on high speed until the whites are stiff and glossy.

3. In a separate mixer bowl (or the same bowl, cleaned and dried) fitted with the paddle attachment, beat almond flour, icing sugar, eggs, salt and vanillas on medium speed until light and voluminous, about 3 minutes. Add flour and beat at low speed until it disappears.

4. Use a rubber spatula to gently fold the meringue into the almond mixture, then fold in the remaining melted butter until just combined. Spread the batter evenly in the prepared pan.

5. Bake the cake until it is lightly browned and just springy to the touch, 5-9 minutes.

6. Put the pan on a cooling rack and run a sharp knife along the edges of the cake to loosen it from the pan. Cover the pan with a sheet of parchment or wax paper, turn the pan over, and unmold. Carefully peel away the parchment, then turn the parchment over and use it to cover the cake. Let the cake cool to room temperature.

Syrup: (adapted from Dorie Greenspan’s Paris Sweets)

The syrup can be made up to 1 week in advance and kept covered in the refrigerator.

¼ cup water
1.2 ounces granulated sugar
1 tablespoon Grand Marnier

In a small saucepan, combine water and sugar. Bring to a boil, while stirring to dissolve ingredients. Stir in liqueur. Remove from heat and allow syrup to cool.

Buttercream: (adapted from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking: From My Home to Yours)

The buttercream, packed in an airtight container, can be frozen for 1 month or refrigerated for 4 days. Bring it to room temperature and beat it briefly to restore its consistency.

¼ cup (1.75 ounces) granulated sugar
1 large egg white
pinch salt
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 tablespoon fresh orange juice
¼ teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Put the sugar and egg whites in a mixer bowl or another large heatproof bowl, fit the bowl over a plan of simmering water and whisk constantly, keeping the mixture over the heat, until it feels hot to the touch (160 degrees on an instant-read thermometer), about 3 minutes. The sugar should be dissolved, and the mixture will look like shiny marshmallow cream. Remove the bowl from the heat. Working with the whisk attachment or with a hand mixer, beat the meringue on medium speed until it is cooledto room temperature, about 5 minutes.

Switch to the paddle attachment if you have one, and add the butter 2 tablespoons at a time. Once all the butter is in, beat the buttercream on medium-high speed until it is thick and very smooth, 6-10 minutes. During this time the buttercream may curdle or separate – just keep beating and it will come together again.

On medium speed, gradually beat in the orange juice, waiting until each addition is absorbed before adding more, and then the vanilla. You should have a shiny smooth, velvety, pristine white buttercream. Press a piece of plastic against the surface of the buttercream and set aside briefly.

White chocolate mousse: (from Tish Boyle and Timothy Moriarity’s Chocolate Passion)

The mousse can be made ahead and refrigerated until you’re ready to use it.

3.5 ounces white chocolate
½ cup plus 1½ tablespoons heavy cream
½ tablespoon Grand Marnier

1. Melt the chopped white chocolate and the 3 tablespoons of heavy cream. Whisk gently and let cool to room temperature.

2. Place the remaining heavy cream into a 4 1/2-quart bowl of a heavy-duty electric mixer fitted with the wire whisk attachment. Add the liqueur. Beat on high speed until soft peaks form.

3. Using a wire whisk, gently stir in about 1 cup of the whipped cream to the cooled white chocolate mixture. Using a rubber spatula, fold in the remaining cream. Do not over-mix or the mousse will become grainy. Cover and refrigerate until ready to use.

Orange glaze: (adapted from Tyler Florence)

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 cups (8 ounces) powdered sugar, sifted
2 oranges, juiced and zested

Combine butter, 2 cups (7 ounces) sugar, orange zest, and juice over a double boiler. Cook until butter and sugar are melted and mixture has thickened. Pour through fine mesh strainer, then beat until smooth and slightly cool, adding more sugar if necessary to reach desired consistency.

Assembly:

Line a baking sheet with parchment or wax paper. Cut and trim cake into three 10 x 5-inch rectangles. Place one section of cake on the baking sheet and moisten it gently with the 1/3 of the syrup. Spread half of the buttercream over this layer. Top with another piece of cake and moisten with 1/3 of the syrup. Spread the remaining buttercream on the cake and then top with the third section of cake. Use the remaining syrup to wet the cake and then refrigerate until very firm, at least half an hour.

Spread the mousse on the top of the last layer of cake. Refrigerate for 2-3 hours to give the mousse the opportunity to firm up.

Pour the cooled glaze over the top of the chilled cake, spreading to evenly coat the cake if necessary. Refrigerate the cake to set the glaze.

Serve the cake slightly chilled. This recipe will yield approximately 10 servings.

traditional madeleines (twd)

I hemmed and hawed about whether to try Tara’s choice of madeleines for this week’s TWD recipe. I don’t have a madeleine pan, and I’m feeling stubborn about buying a pan that has such a specific use. I found out that a mini-muffin pan can be substituted, but I don’t have one of those either. Some people tried baking their madeleines in spoons, but my spoons aren’t very rounded and I wasn’t keen on putting them in the oven. It was suggested that those of us without the proper equipment blog about a previous TWD recipe that we missed instead, and I was all ready with a Snickery Squares entry.

But once the Snickery Squares were eaten, I decided to try out the madeleines anyway, in a regular muffin pan. The recipe says that it makes 12 madeleines, so I planned to divide the batter evenly between the 12 muffin cups. (Actually, I halved the recipe and made six.) I lined the bottom of the muffin cups with cookie press stamps to add some decoration to my tea cakes. I figured that I had nothing to lose if things didn’t work out – the recipe is neither work nor calorie intensive.

I have to admit that this is my first madeleine experience; not just making them, but eating them as well. That means that I have no basis for comparison for how this recipe compares to others and how the muffin madeleines compare to the traditional shell shapes. However, I can make some judgments about what I want from a tea cake.

The muffin pans seemed to work well enough, although I didn’t get the characteristic and elusive hump that’s so desired. But I didn’t feel that my madeleines were tender enough. Honestly, I think there’s too much butter in them, and the batter just couldn’t support and incorporate all of it. I’m also a little surprised by how coarse my crumb was; I must not have beat the eggs and sugar long enough.

Overall though, I’m pleased by the idea of a cookie-sized cake. While I doubt that there’s a madeleine pan in my near future, I might try out some other shapes to see if I can come up with the light and tender tea cake that I want.

Traditional Madeleines (from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking: From My Home to Yours)

⅔ cup all-purpose flour
¾ teaspoon baking powder
Pinch of salt
½ cup sugar
Grated zest of 1 lemon
2 large eggs, at room temperature
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
¾ stick (6 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted and cooled
Confectioners’ sugar, for dusting

Whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt.

Working in a mixer bowl, or in a large bowl, rub the sugar and lemon zest together with your fingertips until the sugar is moist and fragrant. Add the eggs to the bowl. Working with the whisk attachment, or with a hand mixer, beat the eggs and sugar together on medium-high speed until pale, thick and light, 2 to 3 minutes. Beat in the vanilla. With a rubber spatula, very gently fold in the dry ingredients, followed by the melted butter. Press a piece of plastic wrap against the surface of the batter and refrigerate it for at least 3 hours, or for up to 2 days. This long chill period will help the batter form the hump that is characteristic of madeleines. (For convenience, you can spoon the batter into the madeleine molds, cover and refrigerate, then bake the cookies directly from the fridge; see below for instructions on prepping the pans.)

GETTING READY TO BAKE: Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Butter 12 full-size madeleine molds, or up to 36 mini madeleine molds, dust the insides with flour and tap out the excess. Or, if you have a nonstick pan (or pans), give it a light coating of vegetable cooking spray. If you have a silicone pan, no prep is needed. Place the pan(s) on a baking sheet.

Spoon the batter into the molds, filling each one almost to the top. Don’t worry about spreading the batter evenly, the oven’s heat will take care of that. Bake large madeleines for 11 to 13 minutes, and minis for 8 to 10 minutes, or until they are golden and the tops spring back when touched. Remove the pan(s) from the oven and release the madeleines from the molds by rapping the edge of the pan against the counter. Gently pry any recalcitrant madeleines from the pan using your fingers or a butter knife. Transfer the cookies to a rack to cool to just warm or to room temperature.

If you are making minis and have more batter, bake the next batch(es), making certain that you cool, then properly prepare the pan(s) before baking.

Just before serving, dust the madeleines with confectioners’ sugar.

lemon cream tart (twd)

I don’t deal well with lemon desserts. I lose self-control. Lemon tastes so light and fresh that I have trouble wrapping my mind around all the butter that’s usually paired with it. The Extraordinary Lemon Cream Tart that Mary chose for this week’s Tuesdays With Dorie recipe is extreme in the amount of butter called for – just shy of a full pound for a 9-inch tart.

With only Dave to share it with, I had to consider my options concerning this dessert. Unless I planned to serve nothing but salads or do nothing but exercise for several days, I was going to have to find a way to control my lemon tart intake. I decided that I needed tartelette pans so I could cut the recipe in half. Plus tartelette pans are super cute.

One of the fun aspects of being in a group like TWD is the opportunity to troubleshoot recipes. When my gooey chocolate cakes were a bit overcooked the first time I made them, my first thought was that my oven temperature was off, but with 100 other people making the recipe and most having the same problem, it seemed like it was the recipe that was off.

This week the problem that popped up involved the temperature that our lemon mixture was supposed to reach while being stirred over a double boiler. Dorie wanted our mixture to get to 180 degrees, which she said would take about 10 minutes. That seemed accurate for about half of us, but for the other half (myself included), the temperature topped out around 155 degrees and stayed there. In our ongoing discussion of the recipe, it seemed like there might be a correlation between the material of the mixing bowl used and the temperature reached – metal bowls were more likely to reach 180 degrees than glass bowls (although there were a couple outliers). I’m interested in trying the recipe again with a metal bowl instead of the pyrex bowl I used.

But I doubt I’ll be making this again. Not that it wasn’t good, because it was – very good in fact. But there’s just so much butter in it. I don’t generally shy away from rich foods, but they have to be worth it. And with over 600 calories per slice at the serving size that Dorie suggests, this tart has a lot to live up to.

The lemon cream was delicious – smooth with just the right balance of sweet and tart. But lemon curd is delicious too, and it only takes 4 tablespoons to make enough curd for a 9-inch tart, as opposed to 21 tablespoons that this cream needed. I’ll have to settle for rich-but-not-ridiculous lemon curd in the future.

The Most Extraordinary Lemon Cream Tart (from Dorie Greenspan’s From My Home To Yours)

The filling in this tart is everything. It is the lemon cream I learned to make from Pierre Hermé, and it is the ne plus ultra of the lemon world. The tart is basic-a great crust, velvety lemon cream-and profoundly satisfying. It is also profoundly play-aroundable. You can add a fruit topping (circlets of fresh rasp-berries are spectacular with this tart) or a layer of fruit at the bottom; you can finish the tart with meringue; or you can serve it with anything from whipped cream to raspberry coulis.

1 9-inch tart shell made with Sweet Tart Dough, fully baked and cooled
1 cup sugar
Finely grated zest of 3 lemons
4 large eggs
½ cup fresh lemon juice (from 4-5 lemons)
2 sticks plus 5 tablespoons (10½ ounces) unsalted butter, cut into tablespoon-size
pieces, at room temperature

Getting Ready: Have an instant-read thermometer, a strainer and a blender (first choice) or food processor at hand. Bring a few inches of water to a simmer in a saucepan.

Put the sugar and zest in a large heatproof bowl that can be set over the pan of simmering water. Off the heat, rub the sugar and zest together between your fingers until the sugar is moist, grainy and very aromatic. Whisk in the eggs, followed by the lemon juice.

Set the bowl over the pan, and start stirring with the whisk as soon as the mixture feels tepid to the touch. Cook the lemon cream until it reaches 180 degrees F. As you whisk-you must whisk constantly to keep the eggs from scrambling-you’ll see that the cream will start out light and foamy, then the bubbles will get bigger, and then, as it gets closer to 180 degrees F, it will start to thicken and the whisk will leave tracks. Heads up at this point-the tracks mean the cream is almost ready. Don’t stop whisking or checking the temperature, and have patience-depending on how much heat you’re giving the cream, getting to temp can take as long as 10 minutes.

As soon as it reaches 180 degrees F, remove the cream from the heat and strain it into the container of the blender (or food processor); discard the zest. Let the cream stand, stirring occasionally, until it cools to 140 degrees F, about 10 minutes.

Turn the blender to high (or turn on the processor) and, with the machine going, add the butter about 5 pieces at a time. Scrape down the sides of the container as needed as you incorporate the butter. Once the butter is in, keep the machine going-to get the perfect light, airy texture of lemon-cream dreams, you must continue to blend the cream for another 3 minutes. If your machine protests and gets a bit too hot, work in 1-minute intervals, giving the machine a little rest between beats.

Pour the cream into a container, press a piece of plastic wrap against the surface to create an airtight seal and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or overnight. (The cream will keep in the fridge for 4 days and, or tightly sealed, in the freezer for up to 2 months; thaw it overnight in the refrigerator.)

When you are ready to assemble the tart, just whisk the cream to loosen it and spoon it into the tart shell. Serve the tart, or refrigerate ‘until needed.

Serving: It’s a particular pleasure to have this tart when the cream is cold and the crust is at room temperature. A raspberry or other fruit coulis is nice, but not necessary; so is a little crème fraîche. I know it sounds odd to offer something as rich as crème fraîche with a tart like this, but it works because the lemon cream is so light and so intensely citric, it doesn’t taste or feel rich.

Storing: While you can make the lemon cream ahead, once the tart is constructed, it’s best to eat it the day it is made.

Sweet Tart Dough:
Makes enough for one 9-inch crust

Storing: Well wrapped, the dough can be kept in the refrigerator for up to 5 days or frozen for up to 2 months. While the fully baked crust can be packed airtight and frozen for up to 2 months, I prefer to freeze the unbaked crust in the pan and bake it directly from the freezer-it has a fresher flavor. Just add about 5 minutes to the baking time.

In French, this dough is called pâte sablée because it is buttery, tender and sandy (that’s what sablée means). It’s much like shortbread, and it’s ideal for filling with fruit, custard or chocolate.

The simplest way to make a tart shell with this dough is to press it into the pan. You can roll out the dough, but the high proportion of butter to flour and the inclusion of confectioners’ sugar makes it finicky to roll. I always press it into the pan, but if you want to roll it, I suggest you do so between sheets of plastic wrap or wax paper or inside a rolling slipcover.

1½ cups all-purpose flour
½ cup (2 ounces) confectioners’ sugar
¼ teaspoon salt
1 stick plus 1 tablespoon (9 tablespoons) very cold (or frozen) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1 large egg yolk

Put the flour, confectioners’ sugar and salt in a food processor and pulse a couple of times to combine. Scatter the pieces of butter over the dry ingredients and pulse until the butter is coarsely cut in-you should have some pieces the size of oatmeal flakes and some the size of peas. Stir the yolk, just to break it up, and add it a little at a time, pulsing after each addition. When the egg is in, process in long pulses-about 10 seconds each-until the dough, which will look granular soon after the egg is added, forms clumps and curds. Just before you reach this stage, the sound of the machine working the dough will change-heads up. Turn the dough out onto a work surface and, very lightly and sparingly, knead the dough just to incorporate any dry ingredients that might have escaped mixing.

To press the dough into the pan: Butter a 9-inch fluted tart pan with a removable bottom. Press the dough evenly over the bottom and up the sides of the pan, using all but one little piece of dough, which you should save in the refrigerator to patch any cracks after the crust is baked. Don’t be too heavy-handed-press the crust in so that the edges of the pieces cling to one another, but not so hard that the crust loses its crumbly texture. Freeze the crust for at least 30 minutes, preferably longer, before baking.

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Butter the shiny side of a piece of aluminum foil and fit the foil, buttered side down, tightly against the crust. (Since you froze the crust, you can bake it without weights.) Put the tart pan on a baking sheet and bake the crust for 25 minutes. Carefully remove the foil. If the crust has puffed, press it down gently with the back of a spoon.

Bake for another 8 minutes or so, or until it is firm and golden brown. (I dislike lightly baked crusts, so I often keep the crust in the oven just a little longer. If you do that, just make sure to keep a close eye on the crust’s progress-it can go from golden to way too dark in a flash.) Transfer the tart pan to a rack and cool the crust to room temperature before filling.

To patch a partially or fully baked crust, if necessary: If there are any cracks in the baked crust, patch them with some of the reserved raw dough as soon as you remove the foil. Slice off a thin piece of the dough, place it over the crack, moisten the edges and very gently smooth the edges into the baked crust. If the tart will not be baked again with its filling, bake for another 2 minutes or so, just to take the rawness off the patch.

because i’ve always been your biggest flan (creme caramel/flan)

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Flan, crème caramel, whatever. Turns out, there’s only the teeniest of differences. I was struggling to think of a dessert that fit a precise set of requirements – compatibility with the red wine we’d be drinking that night, not chocolate, and most importantly, not requiring any trips to the store. I really thought I’d hit on the perfect idea with flan, and it had even been on my list of things I’m all too eager to cook for some time now. But I kept hitting a snag, in that most of the recipes on epicurious called for sweetened condensed milk, and I didn’t have any.

Finally, I hit upon one that I had all the ingredients for. And I noticed something – the only significant difference between this recipe and Cooks Illustrated’s recipe for crème caramel is the fat content of the dairy. The flan recipe uses almost twice as much whipping cream as milk, whereas the crème caramel recipe uses an equal amount of light cream and milk. This was perfect for me, because I had made the crème caramel before and found the custard to be a little too light for my tastes. Furthermore, I had heavy cream on hand.

Well, I sort of had heavy cream. What I actually had was not one, but two expired cartons of cream, neither of which was the ultra-pasteurized stuff that lasts forever. Eww. But I was determined to make this, and I decided that one of the cartons was passable. I didn’t tell Dave about the questionable dairy in the custard, as I don’t think he’d have been pleased.

Oh, this dessert turned out really well. Much better than the previous time I’d made the crème caramel, when I believe I had overcooked the caramel. This time I fussed over it determinedly, swirling and watching, and even getting a container of honey out so I could judge just when the caramel became the “honey-caramel color” that the recipe instructed. It was perfect. I did have a little adventure with divvying up the caramel among only 3 ramekins instead of the four I was supposed to use, then hurriedly trying to scoop quickly hardening caramel into the 4th ramekin.

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After that, everything went pretty smoothly. This really isn’t a hard dessert to make, although the water bath is a bit of a pain. The blood-colored streaks on the ramekins are stains from the maroon towel I used to keep the ramekins stable in the water bath. Don’t they look so appetizing? Oh, and the stab wounds are from my tests to check if the custard was done cooking. Next time I need to be careful not to puncture the caramel. Between the bloody ramekins and the knife marks, I bet these just look so tempting, right? But this is actually an easy, fairly cheap, impressive recipe that can be made days in advance, and might therefore be perfect for a dinner party.

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Classic Crème Caramel (from Cooks Illustrated)

CI note: Though you can make one large creme caramel, we find that custards baked in individual ramekins cook faster, are more evenly textured, and unmold more easily. You can vary the amount of sugar in the custard to suit your taste. Most tasters preferred the full two-thirds cup, but you can reduce that amount to as little as one-half cup to create a greater contrast between the custard and the sweetness of the caramel. Cook the caramel in a pan with a light-colored interior, since a dark surface makes it difficult to judge the color of the syrup. Caramel can leave a real mess in a pan, but it is easy to clean. Simply boil lots of water in the pan for 5 to 10 minutes to loosen the hardened caramel.

Crumblycookie changes: I used heavy cream instead of light cream, 2% milk instead of whole milk, ½ of a vanilla bean instead of extract, and vanilla sugar instead of regular sugar.

Serves 8

Caramel
1 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup water
2 tablespoons corn syrup
¼ teaspoon lemon juice

Custard
1½ cups whole milk
1½ cups light cream
3 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
Pinch table salt

1. For the caramel: In a medium nonreactive saucepan and without stirring, bring sugar, water, corn syrup, and lemon juice to simmer over medium-high heat, wiping sides of pan with wet cloth to remove any sugar crystals that might cause syrup to turn grainy. Continue to cook until syrup turns from clear to golden, swirling pan gently to ensure even browning, about 8 minutes. Continue to cook, swirling pan gently and constantly, until large, slow bubbles on mixture’s surface turn honey-caramel in color, 4 to 5 minutes longer. Remove pan immediately from heat and, working quickly but carefully (the caramel is over 300 degrees and will burn you if it touches your skin), pour a portion of the caramel into each of 8 ungreased 6-ounce ovenproof ramekins. Allow caramel to cool and harden, about 15 minutes. (Can be covered with plastic wrap and refrigerated for up to 2 days; return to room temperature before adding custard.)

2. For the custard: Adjust oven rack to center position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Heat milk and cream, stirring occasionally, in medium saucepan over medium heat until steam appears and/or an instant-read thermometer held in the liquid registers 160 degrees, 6 to 8 minutes; remove from heat. Meanwhile, gently whisk eggs, yolks, and sugar in large bowl until just combined. Off heat, gently whisk warm milk mixture, salt, and vanilla into eggs until just combined but not at all foamy. Strain mixture through fine mesh sieve into large measuring cup or container with pouring spout; set aside.

3. Bring 2 quarts water to boil in kettle. Meanwhile, fold dish towel to fit bottom of large baking dish or roasting pan and position in pan. Divide reserved custard mixture among ramekins; place filled ramekins on towel in pan (making sure they do not touch) and set pan on oven rack. Fill pan with boiling water to reach halfway up ramekins; cover entire pan loosely with aluminum foil so steam can escape. Bake until a paring knife inserted halfway between center and edge of the custards comes out clean, 35 to 40 minutes. Transfer custards to wire rack; cool to room temperature (Can be covered with plastic wrap and refrigerated up to 2 days.)

4. To unmold, slide a paring knife around entire mold perimeter, pressing knife against side of the dish. Hold serving plate over top of ramekin and invert; set plate on work surface and shake ramekin gently to release custard. Serve immediately.

For one large crème caramel: Follow recipe for Classic Crème Caramel, pouring caramel and custard into 1½-quart straight-sided soufflé dish rather than individual ramekins. Fill roasting pan with boiling water to reach halfway up sides of soufflé dish; increase baking time to 70 to 75 minutes or until an instant-read thermometer inserted in center of custard registers 175 degrees.

The Perfect Flan (from epicurious)

1¾ cups whipping cream
1 cup milk (do not use low-fat or nonfat)
Pinch of salt
½ vanilla bean, split lengthwise

1 cup sugar
1/3 cup water

3 large eggs
2 large yolks
7 tablespoons sugar

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350°F. Combine cream, milk and salt in heavy medium saucepan. Scrape seeds from vanilla bean into cream mixture; add bean. Bring to simmer over medium heat. Remove from heat and let steep 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, combine 1 cup sugar and 1/3 cup water in another heavy medium saucepan. Stir over low heat until sugar dissolves. Increase heat to high and cook without stirring until syrup turns deep amber, brushing down sides of pan with wet pastry brush and swirling pan occasionally, about 10 minutes. Quickly pour caramel into six ¾-cup ramekins or custard cups. Using oven mitts as aid, immediately tilt each ramekin to coat sides. Set ramekins into 13x9x2-inch baking pan.

Whisk eggs, egg yolks and 7 tablespoons sugar in medium bowl just until blended. Gradually and gently whisk cream mixture into egg mixture without creating lots of foam. Pour custard through small sieve into prepared ramekins, dividing evenly (mixture will fill ramekins). Pour enough hot water into baking pan to come halfway up sides of ramekins.

Bake until centers of flans are gently set, about 40 minutes. Transfer flans to rack and cool. Chill until cold, about 2 hours. Cover and chill overnight. (Can be made 2 days ahead.)

To serve, run small sharp knife around flan to loosen. Turn over onto plate. Shake gently to release flan. Carefully lift off ramekin allowing caramel syrup to run over flan. Repeat with remaining flans and serve.

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salty little fish (pissaladiere)

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Like many people I know, I worked at a pizza joint as a teenager. One night, as another employee handed a pizza to a customer, I caught a whiff of an awful odor – like rotting fish, ruining a perfectly good pizza. This was my first firsthand experience with anchovies. Yuck.

It took Cooks Illustrated (of course) and their recipe for pasta e fagioli to convince to me give the little fishies another chance. In this soup, the anchovies are used much like garlic, first minced and then used to flavor the sauce. When I opened the can, I expected to be confronted with the rotted smell that I still remembered from ten years before. Instead, I smelled…nothing. Nothing rotted, nothing even the least bit fishy. I took a hesitant nibble of one.

Whoa!!! Careful eating anchovies straight from the can! It’s like eating a fillet of salt.

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These days, I love anchovies. My husband, unfortunately, does not. One too many anchovy pizza deliveries as he worked his way through college, I suspect. I don’t know what those pizza places do to their anchovies to make them smell so horrid; my theory is incorrect storage. Also, to me, slabs of fish on tomato sauce and cheese seems inconsistent.

Not that I don’t like anchovies on pizza, mind you. But I like to skip the tomatoes and cheese and lay the little fishes on a pile of caramelized onions, dotted with nicoise olives and sprinkled with parsley. Ah, pissaladiere. This was one of my favorite dinners for myself before I married an anchovy-hater.

And now it’s my entry for Hay Hay It’s Donna Day, hosted this month by Joey of 80 breakfasts. I certainly encourage you to give anchovies a chance if you’ve always been convinced that they’re nothing but a foul pizza topping. They are far more than that – subtly meaty and a bit salty even after being rinsed. I admit, however, that this is probably not a good recipe for the anchovy un-initiated.

But for the rest of us, what a treat of contrasting flavors that play so well together!

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Pissaladiere – Provencal Pizza (from Cooks Illustrated)

Instant yeast is almost always sold under a marketing name; look for “rapid rise,” “perfect rise,” or “quick rise.” If your food processor includes a plastic dough blade attachment, use it; its short blades and dull edges make kneading easier on the motor. If not, the regular metal blade works almost as well. For best flavor, use high-quality oil-packed anchovies; in a recent tasting, Ortiz were our favorite. The dough in this recipe rises for 1 to 1 ½ hours. If a longer or overnight rise is more convenient, make the dough with ½ teaspoon of instant yeast and let it rise in the refrigerator for 16 to 24 hours. The caramelized onions can also be made a day ahead and refrigerated.

Makes 2 tarts, 8 to 10 first course servings

Dough:
2 cups bread flour (11 ounces), plus extra for dusting work surface
1 teaspoon instant yeast
1 teaspoon table salt
1 tablespoon olive oil, plus additional oil for brushing dough and greasing hands
1 cup water (8 ounces), warm (about 110 degrees)

Caramelized Onions:
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 pounds yellow onions, sliced 1/4 inch thick
½ teaspoon table salt
1 teaspoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon water

Olives, Anchovies, and Garnishes:
olive oil
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
½ cup niçoise olives, pitted and chopped coarse
8 anchovy fillets, rinsed, patted dry, and chopped coarse (about 2 tablespoons)
12 anchovy fillets, rinsed and patted dry for (optional) garnish
2 teaspoons minced fresh thyme leaves
1 teaspoon fennel seeds (optional)
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley leaves (optional)

1. For the dough: In workbowl of food processor fitted with plastic dough blade (see note), pulse flour, yeast, and salt to combine, about five 1-second pulses. With machine running, slowly add oil, then water, through feed tube; continue to process until dough forms ball, about 15 seconds. Generously dust work surface with flour; using floured hands, transfer dough to work surface and knead lightly, shaping dough into ball. Lightly oil 1-quart measuring cup or small bowl, place dough in measuring cup, cover tightly with plastic wrap, and set aside in draft-free spot until doubled in volume, 1 to 1 1/2 hours.

2. For the caramelized onions: While dough is rising, heat oil in 12-inch nonstick skillet over high heat until shimmering but not smoking; stir in onions, salt, and brown sugar and cook, stirring frequently, until moisture released by onions has evaporated and onions begin to brown, about 10 minutes. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook, stirring frequently, until onions have softened and are medium golden brown, about 20 minutes longer. Off heat, stir in water; transfer to bowl and set aside. Adjust oven rack to lowest position, set baking stone on rack, and heat oven to 500 degrees.

3. To shape, top, and bake the dough: When dough has doubled, remove from measuring cup and divide into 2 equal pieces using dough scraper. Working with one piece at a time, form each piece into rough ball by gently pulling edges of dough together and pinching to seal. With floured hands, turn dough ball seam-side down. Cupping dough with both hands, gently push dough in circular motion to form taut ball. Repeat with second piece. Brush each lightly with oil, cover with plastic wrap, and let rest 10 minutes. Meanwhile, cut two 20-inch lengths parchment paper and set aside.

4. Coat fingers and palms of hands generously with oil. Using dough scraper, loosen 1 piece of dough from work surface. With well-oiled hands, hold dough aloft and gently stretch to 12-inch length. Place on parchment sheet and gently dimple surface of dough with fingertips. Using oiled palms, push and flatten dough into 14- by 8-inch oval. Brush dough with oil and sprinkle with 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Leaving ½-inch border around edge, sprinkle ¼ cup olives, 1 tablespoon chopped anchovies, and 1 teaspoon thyme evenly over dough, then evenly scatter with half of onions. Arrange 6 whole anchovy fillets, if using, on tart and sprinkle with fennel seeds, if using. Slip parchment with tart onto pizza peel (or inverted rimless baking sheet), then slide onto hot baking stone. Bake until deep golden brown, 13 to 15 minutes. While first tart bakes, shape and top second tart.

5. Remove tart from oven with peel or pull parchment onto baking sheet; transfer tart to cutting board and slide parchment out from under tart. Cool 5 minutes; sprinkle with 1½ teaspoons parsley, if using. Cut tart in half lengthwise, then cut crosswise to form 8 pieces; serve immediately. While first tart cools, bake second tart.

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